


How To Save Your Star System (AKA Yog-Sothoth Get Fucked Challenge )

by wowzaKy



Category: The Bifrost Incident - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Eldritch Lyf, Nastya is there b/c I say so, Non-binary Lyf Rights, abusing your eldritch powers for good, major character death but not really b/c it’s the mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25317580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowzaKy/pseuds/wowzaKy
Summary: A patch of air shimmered, unnoticed by any of the crowd. A rainbow, plastic hue- not unlike a sheet of cellophane- twisting, warping a few feet from the street corner. If any were close, they’d hear the faint chime of a flute before the sound abruptly cut and the patch of air tore open, spilling rainbow light for but a brief second before disappearing, the air appearing as undisturbed as it had minutes earlier.In its place stood a figure. They were short, with piercing silver eyes and hair as colorful as the air had been, glinting kaleidoscope under the streetlight, which tumbled messy over their shoulders. The figure took in the quiet New Midgard morning slowly, head turning in clear disbelief. Their shoulders began to shake as they let out a bark of laughter, borderline hysterical. Oily tears gathered in the corners of their eyes, glinting the same as their hair, and Former Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda smiled. “I did it- It worked. I’m back.”~~~OR Lyf uses their eldritch powers to flip off Yog-Sothoth & travel back in time to save their star system.
Relationships: Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum
Comments: 44
Kudos: 126





	1. Step One: Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t get this out of my head, so heRe We arE.
> 
> This chapter is hella shorter than the rest will be, rest assured.
> 
> **EDIT: Chapter 1 is the only chapter not in present tense. Assume it takes place briefly before the fic starts.**

It was a quiet morning on New Midgard. The type of morning where the sky hid behind a blanket of soft, slate grey and birdsong was heard above the hustle of the city. A cool wind blew, rustling leaves and loose strands of hair, fallen from braids. Mindless chatter buzzed in casual ambience, paired with the hum of transport vehicles tottering past and the contented sigh of a coffee shop patron as they sipped their morning brew. All was calm, all was peaceful. 

A patch of air shimmered, unnoticed by any of the crowd. A rainbow, plastic hue- not unlike a sheet of cellophane- twisting, warping a few feet from the street corner. If any were close, they’d hear the faint chime of a flute before the sound abruptly cut and the patch of air tore open, spilling rainbow light for but a brief second before disappearing, the air appearing as undisturbed as it had minutes earlier. 

In its place stood a figure. They were short, with piercing, silver eyes and hair as colorful as the air had been, glinting kaleidoscope under the streetlight, which tumbled messy over their shoulders. The figure took in the quiet New Midgard morning slowly, head turning in clear disbelief. Their shoulders began to shake as they let out a bark of laughter, borderline hysterical. Oily tears gathered in the corners of their eyes, glinting the same as their hair, and Former Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda smiled. “I did it- It worked. I’m back.” 

They then promptly crumpled in a dead faint, alarming the now-aware citizens around them.

**+**

Consciousness came slow to Lyfrassir. Bits and pieces swam in their mind- panicked voices asking if they were alright, the noisy chaos of an ambulance, confused exclamations from what might be a doctor- but always sinking back below the depths before Lyf could properly process them. They could hear beeping and this time around clung to it, dragging themselves back into the waking world with an exhausted determination. They needed to be awake, needed to assess the situation. Gods, they didn’t even know how far back they’d gone. Had the train arrived yet? Had they- well, it would be past them now, wouldn’t it?- been assigned the black box yet? Had they, gods-forbid, watched the damn thing? Hopefully not. But Lyf has no way to tell if they don’t wake up. _Wake up, dammit._

A low groan rose from the back of their throat as they forced their eyes open, the motion not dissimilar to prying open thick lead doors with a rusted crowbar, and shuffled themselves back against headboard of the hospital bed so they could prop themselves up and get a good and proper look at their surroundings. Predictably, they appeared to be in a standard, New Midgardian hospital room. Fuck, were they grateful to see one of these boring rooms again. Before… All That… Lyf dreaded the hospital. Waking up in one when you were in the transport police never bode well. Now? They could feel a giddy Hope blooming in their chest. The fact that they’d woken here at all meant they’d succeeded. Earlier hadn’t been some desperate hallucination, thank the gods- they’d had enough of those the first few decades adrift in space, _thank you very much._

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly now that they thought on it, they didn’t seem to be hooked up to any medical equipment. Just laid up in a simple cot in an otherwise empty hospital room. If they weren’t hooked up to anything, though, where had that beeping come from? They knew they hadn’t imagined it… probably. Following the beeps led their gaze to the vent, positioned directly above their head. What- why would the vent be beeping? Lyf, having had their fill of bullshit for at least another century, decided they’d rather not know and instead used what little energy they had shoving themselves to their feet, flailing awkwardly only a normal amount until they could steady themselves against the wall. Right. Okay. Standing achieved, Edda, now what? 

Well. Lyf supposed they should probably leave. No use getting caught up in explaining themselves here- who knew what questions the doctors were sure to have if they’d tried to perform even the most basic of medical checks on Lyf while they were unconscious. They’re biology wasn’t really Midgardian anymore, hadn’t been for a long, long while. Thanks Yog-Sothoth.- or staying around to discover why the vents beeped like someone stashed a bomb in them… Yeah. They should go. 

Next order of business was figuring out when, exactly, they’d emerged. Knowing that was crucial to their plans- of which they didn’t have yet, past “use their new eldritch powers to travel to the past and save their fucking system”, but… they’d figure it out. They had to. 

As soon as they found their way out of this hospital. At least the staff hadn’t seen fit to change their clothes. Stumbling around the halls in a thin gown wouldn’t be pleasant. Now they could stumble in their worn Harmimus Mining Colony jumpsuit. Huzzah. 

“Uh- Sir? You shouldn’t, uh, you shouldn’t be wandering around here?” Lyf turned to see a nurse behind them, her fingers clenched tight on her clipboard and her teeth nervously working her bottom lip. Finally, someone who knew their way around this place! 

“Sorry ma’am. It seems I’ve gotten a bit lost.” Lyf shot her what they hoped was a reassuring smile. It’s been so long since they’ve interacted with another person, let alone one from their own star system, they were out of practice. “Could you point me in the direction of the exit?” 

If the nurse found Lyf suspicious, she didn’t show it. In fact, she looked rather relieved to be dealing with a simple lost visitor than a sneaking intruder. Not that Lyf was a sneaking intruder, of course. Though they _were_ sneaking out of the hospital before whoever had been assigned to them realized they’d awoke and left. “Y-Yes! If you turn back down that hall, you, uh, should see the staircase that leads back to the waiting room floor!” Lyf hummed their thanks, following the nurse’s directions until they did, indeed, walk out into a waiting room. Racking their memories, they were disappointed to see they didn’t recognize the hospital- though that didn’t mean much. Specific places, especially ones they’d never been too fond of, melted from their memory after the first few decades alone. Still, it meant they were starting out in unfamiliar territory. 

Eh. They’d deal with it. 

As casual as they could- unfortunately, they were still wobbly, both from over-exerting their power and passing out, so it was taking all their strength to not look drunk or sick, both things that’d most definitely get them stopped again. Their more... eclectic traits were already garnering odd looks- Lyf exited the hospital. Above them the sky was as grey as it’d been in their arrival, so hopefully that meant they’d not been out too long.

 _Fuck._ They can’t believe they’re back. 

Lyf wandered for a while. Just taking in the sights and sounds and smells of a star system they thought lost to the Bifrost. Memorizing the shapes of the buildings, the curve of the trees, the taste of the air. This. This was what they’d returned for. To experience it all again, to make sure it’d be there to experience. It would be easy to say they were doing it for others- it would be the pretty explanation, at least. That they’d come back to save countless lives from squamous things, truly warn everyone instead of sending out a single transmission and fleeing for the hills- and that would be part of it. But. Lyf has mostly come back for themself. So they wouldn’t have to be the last one left. So they didn’t have to be alone. 

They deserved to be selfish, though, after the shitty hand Yog-Sothoth handed them. Fucking prick. 

When the day had dwindled to an end, Lyf finally did what they said they’d do and snatched a glance at a sitting bystanders tablet, thankfully open to the news. From what Lyf could tell, there didn’t seem to be anything about trains or the bifrost at all- good news. Leaning over the bench anymore to see any type of timestamp would be creepy, though, so they sucked it up and asked. 

They’d gotten a “are you literally stupid” look for their troubles, but they’d also gotten the date, so worth it. 

Two months. 

Lyf has almost exactly two months until the train arrives. That’s 2 months to plan what the actual fuck they’re going to do to stop an eldritch god from swallowing Yggdrasil whole. Not to mention come up with a contingency plan to get people to actually believe them about it and evacuate, in case stopping Yog-Sothoth isn’t possible. And dealing with Von Raum, since no way would that asshole keep his stupid violin in his own space when he learned they were here. Rest In Peace their past- present?- self for dealing with that bullshit. 

Huh. Their past self. That’s a thing they really should give more acknowledgement. Lyf should probably stop them from becoming, well, them, too, shouldn’t they? While being an eldritch abomination had its perks, Lyf wouldn’t wish their existence on to anyone else. It really hadn’t been worth it. 

_Fuck, two months._

Well. 

This should be fun.


	2. Step Two: Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professional Space Cop Lyf v. Eldritch Gremlin Lyf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> & we’re back folks 
> 
> c/w (spoilers): 
> 
> \- mildly dubious police action
> 
> \- vague violence

( Current ) Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda resisted the much needed urge to sigh. What was it with people just- assuming the transport police would be willing to overlook obviously suspicious packages? Hel, it’s even wrapped in yellow caution tape! What- were they supposed to pretend the item, maligned with the rest of the cargo the “exotic fruit vendor” carried, isn’t there? It’s six feet tall and sitting amongst carts of fruit! 

Gods, the idiocy of people astounded them. 

“Inspector! Anything pick your fancy? I’ll be selling in the farmers market next week if so-“ 

“What’s in the crate.” 

“Ah- I do not know what you mean?” 

Lyfrassir shot the man a deadpan look, regretting their career path more and more. This isn’t even what their job is supposed to entail. They’re an inspector. But- they're on the team investigating a new underground weapons market, so now they’re stuck investigating any and all “dubious” shipments passing through the checkpoint. Which meant dealing with fools like this. Gods, even _those three_ aren’t this dumb. 

“Oh, Aha, yes the crate! Nothing more than rare gold melons from the Imarmo System!” 

“Would you allow me to check for myself?” 

“U- Uh, not necessary inspector, simply mel-“

“Section 43 of the New Midgardian Import Bill details that any and all cargo brought from outside Yggdrasil is liable to be searched by any member of the New Midgardian Transport Police if deemed suspicious or in violation of New Midgard cargo law. No offense, sir, but suspicious is the mildest of terms I’d use to describe this situation- it’s why I was called here in the first place. So either you kindly open the crate yourself, or I call reinforcements and mark you down with both smuggling charges and refusal to cooperate with an officer of the law.” 

“No, no, no need for that inspector. Let me just get the key-“ One glance at the crate showed it’s a basic magnet seal, no key needed, “and I’ll crack that boy open, haha!” 

Lyfrassir is certain they’re losing brain cells, and this time doesn’t resist their sigh as the “fruit vendor” blatantly pulls a knife- _a fucking knife-_ from a “hidden” panel in the shuttle. Simply sends out a backup request on their phone and pulled out their taser, shocking the smuggler while he pantomimes grabbing a nonexistent key as if they couldn’t see him trying to tuck the knife into his trousers, presumably to hit them with a “surprise” stab when they’re back near the crate and out of public eye. 

Seriously. 

They aren’t paid enough for this. 

By the time their backup comes, Lyfrassir has already cuffed the smuggler and is directing the checkpoint workers in securing the crate for later inspection. The arriving officers- actual officers, not inspectors, the ones who had called Lyfrassir in- wave them off and Lyf is free. Free to go back to the precinct and fill out paperwork, that is. The joys of being an inspector (second class). It doesn’t help that they’re the youngest on their team, the others often volunteering them for the menial tasks. Like this. 

Knowing they’d need it- gods, did they need it- they stop to grab coffee on their way back. Their favorite. An unholy concoction their coworkers describe as “definitely cursed, Edda, why would you drink that?!”, 90% pure sugar, 8% caffeine, and 2% sheer spite- which is necessary if you want to survive consuming the damn thing. Lyfrassir takes a big swig. _Ah, good shit._ As they drank, mentally preparing themselves for the shipload of papers they just _knew_ were waiting for them, they let their gaze drift lazily. Eyes merely brushing over faces and places, not caring enough to bother logging them in their mind. It’s not like they don’t see the same, boring scenery every day, after all. 

_Ding!_

Great. What now?

**Weapons Market Investigation**

**Vagle: @Edda** I heard u caught us a smuggler?????

 **Bengtsson:** !!! :D 

**Bengtsson:** does this mean we finally have us 

**Bengtsson:** a LEAD!?!

 **Fagerberg:** I would like to remind you all that this is a workplace chat, meant to pool our resources to help further our investigation & allow everyone to stay on the same page. Please do try to maintain an air of professionalism. 

**Bengtsson:** magnhild!!! 

**Vagle:** Didn’t kno u read this chat, Chief.

 **Fagerberg:** It is imperative I am aware of what is happening, when it is happening, as lead inspector on the case. If that means dealing with this chat, that is fine. 

**Fagerberg:** Hello Ama. 

**Bengtsson:** hi :D 

**Edda: @Vagle** I did. 

**Edda:** Wait. How’d you know? That was 30 min. ago, Vagle. 

**Vagle:** I have my ways :) 

**Bengtsson:** lol no he doesn’t we got the report from the baby cops 

**Bengtsson:** they’re surprisingly speedy with their paperwork!!! 

**Edda:** Baby cops? 

**Vagle:** Don’t expose me like this Ama 

**Bengtsson:** you know

 **Bengtsson:** the baby cops 

**Edda:** No. I really don’t. 

**Vagle:** She means the officers 

**Bengtsson:** ^^^ :3 

**Edda:** … That doesn’t really explain. 

**Fagerberg: @Vagle @Bengtsson** Back to work. **@Edda** Seeing as it has been thirty minutes since you wrapped up at New Midgard Western Checkpoint Station, I am assuming you are close to arriving back at the precinct to fill out your own report of the incident? 

**Bengtsson:** aw :( 

**Vagle:** Of course, Chief! 

**Edda:** Yes. 

**Bengtsson:** but i can’t do anything til we get the rest of the paperwork on our new lead :( :( 

**Vagle: @Bengtsson** That’s a lie & u kno it 

**Fagerberg:** Ama. 

**Edda:** I needed coffee after that mess. I’m a few minutes out from the precinct, though. 

**Bengtsson:** fineee

 **Vagle:** HA whipped 

**Fagerberg:** I said back to work, **@Vagle.**

 **Fagerberg: @Edda** Good. **@Everyone** Now, please put your communication pads away. If I see any out during work hours, for purposes unrelated to investigating underground weapons markets, I will not hesitate to confiscate them & hand out extra paperwork. Good day.

Pushing down yet another sigh with a gulp of steaming sugar, Lyfrassir shoves their phone into the pocket of their uniform slacks, rolling their eyes. Their team was… adequate, they supposed, and friendly enough to work with despite Lyf clearly being the outsider of the group. 

Inspector Third Class Colborn Vagle is simultaneously the most inclusive, yet irritating of Lyfrassir’s coworkers. A tall, broad-shouldered man with hair a few shades darker than Lyf’s own silver locks, who’s never once singled them out for being the youngest inspector on the force, but whose personal boundary skills are sorely lacking. If they had to spell out their discomfort at his incessant badgering to “hang” with the team out of hours once more, Lyfrassir may just snap and punch the man. 

Weapons Specialist Ama Bengtsson is an interesting woman, whose personality is akin to if a bag of rock candy, a pile of kittens, and a grenade launcher had a baby. She’s lithe, with wiry muscle, and taller than Vagle- which. How come Lyfrassir was surrounded by tall people? How unfair was that? They should really voice a complaint to HR… Did they have HR in the transport police? Fuck, now they’re getting sidetracked- though, they should snoop around to check. Just in case they ever _did_ have to file a serious complaint… Would they take them about prisoners? If so, Lyfrassir has _words_ about Von Raum and his infuriating violin-conjuring-abilities, _like gods how was he getting those infernal things-_ Ah. Right. Bengtsson. 

She’s cheerful, borderline obsessive concerning firearms, and in a not-so-secret platonic relationship with Lead Inspector Fagerberg. The two had known each other since childhood, supposedly, and last they’d checked, there’s a betting pool running to see when they’d officially tie the knot. Lyf abstained participation. Partially because they wanted to maintain their professionalism- it’s what had gotten them so high in rank so young. Well, that and their frankly deleterious workaholic-tendencies that led to Lyf frequently solving solo cases- and partially because Lead Inspector Fagerberg is a terrifying woman who could crush their head with her bare hands. 

Lyfrassir respects Lead Inspector Magnhild Fagerberg, though. For all her strict roughness, she knew how to get shit done. With her scar-sketched- more scars than an inspector in the transport police should have, Lyf suspected she’d taken part in the more violent side of the revolution post Bifrost Incident- mahogany skin and near-golden eagle eyes, she paints an intimidating figure, one who wouldn’t be out of place leading an army in some fantasy tale. 

Those three had worked together for a long, long while, longer than Lyfrassir had been with the precinct, and well, when they’d been assigned to work with them? They’ll admit they’d been more than a little nervous. It’s- alright. For an inspector who’s usually assigned solo cases, Lyf managed well enough, suddenly thrust into the tight-knit group- which they suspect is due to, one: being the youngest on staff and thus the most expendable when it came to assignments, and two: being, unfortunately, the only one those three assholes would cooperate with anymore. Cooperate used liberally, seeing that they’re more liable to burst into musical racket than answer any of Lyf’s questions and gods just thinking about them makes their skin itch. 

Lyfrassir has no idea why Von Raum, Alexandria, and La Cognizi refuse to speak to anyone- _literally anyone-_ but them. Somehow, someway, they’d managed to draw the group's favor. Or maybe they just enjoyed seeing how quick they could annoy Lyfrassir to the edge of their temper, storming off empty-handed save for one of Von Raum’s violins and a deep-seated desire to punt themself into the sun. 

_The more time between Lyf and the prisoners' dealings, the better._

Sadly, their team needs the knowledge they could have- Von Raum, Alexandria, and La Cognizi’s notorious flinging of themselves through New Midgard’s underground like deranged, thieving baboons prior to their arrests gave them connections in just about all illegal dealings. Which meant, despite the sixty year difference, they’re a metaphorical fountain of criminal knowledge. Not to mention their technological capabilities, which had helped Lyf out of a stump more than once. 

Lyfrassir fucking hates them. 

As they near the precinct, Lyf gave one last, lackadaisical look to the crowd- then pauses. What… no, there’s no one there. Must’ve imagined them… maybe they’re more stressed from this morning than they thought. _Stressed enough to have hallucinations,_ their mind whispers, incredulous, the traitor, and they resolutely ignore it. It was but a simple stress hallucination. Nothing more, nothing less. Huffing, Lyfrassir downs the rest of their coffee like a shot and heads inside, shoving their sudden unease aside.

**+**

Lyf watched their past self enter the New Midgard Transport Police Precinct, melancholy nostalgia festering in their throat. It’d been so long… fuck, what had they even been working on before the black box? Eh, it didn’t matter. They’re here for a reason, not to simply stalk themself and be sad. They had eternity to be sad. Taking a break to… not be sad wouldn’t be the end of the world. In fact, it would be the opposite, if they play their cards right!

“Godsdammit, I’m bad at this.” They snort, shoving their hair from their face, “Great plan, Edda, just don’t be sad and Yog-Sothoth’ll decide not to be a little bitch and the day’ll be saved! Hooray for emotional repression!” 

A passerby shot them a disgruntled look, to which Lyf returned a pointed middle finger. 

It’s been but two days since they’d managed to wormhole their way through time. Two days spent plotting their next move, marking down all they could remember about the months before the train, and securing a base of operations through- less than legal means. But. Eldritch abomination. So. Besides, the apartment they’d commandeered originally belonged to a peeping creep, so Lyf did the world a favor by disappearing him, really. 

... When’d they become so nonplussed by murder? Guess that’s what happens when your star system and soul get devoured by a rainbow nightmare, followed by years isolated, your only company regret, the unforgiving void, and your shitty, bifrost-tinted dreams. Only so many times someone could see and smell and taste and feel millions be ripped to shreds before they become desensitised, Lyf grins wry at the thought. 

_They really are a monster now, huh?_

A beam of sunlight, shooting warm through a break in the clouds, breaks them from their thoughts. Right. Their plan. It isn’t much, not at all, but it was more than they’d had two days ago, and essentially boiled down to acquire allies. 

Lyf isn’t stupid, they know they won’t be able to beat Yog-Sothoth on their own, even _with_ the advantage of their powers. Powers that came directly from the thing they planned to fight… Hopefully that wouldn’t cause issues later on. 

They need allies, people they could trust, people who are competent and willing to take them seriously and not ship them off to a mental hospital after hearing Lyf’s plight. And people who knew how to fucking well fight. 

They know who they need. They do not want them. But. Fuck if they don’t know, deep, deep, deep down, that they’d need them. 

Lyf was starting small, though. Who best to recruit first than themself? This way they’ll be able to insure their survival plus hopeful remainder as midgardian. Changing their own fate would be impossible, but they could save some version of themself and that would have to be enough. 

Now. To sneak into their former employment and scare the shit out of past Lyf. 

It would be laughably easy to warp their way inside, but the problem there being that Lyf couldn’t recall where, exactly, their office is. Walking in is out of the question- they’d be recognized, scrutinized immediately, and they don’t fancy explaining the situation to just any person they bumbled into- so they’ll need to figure a way. 

The precinct loomed across the street, busy in a way that meant trouble for Lyf. Although precinct was a bit of an understatement. The New Midgard Transport Police Precinct was, in actuality, just the first few floors of The New Midgard Transport Police Headquarters, connected in turn to a sprawling penitentiary lurking behind. Thousands worked in the two buildings, from janitors to secretarial staff to officers to prison guards, and that didn’t count the hundreds of convicts it housed; it’ll be a struggle to remain undetected. Again, though, they’ll need to be. And it’s not like Lyf hadn’t done the impossible before, Hel their very existence is impossible, so. 

“I can always warp straight to myself? That could work… I should be alone in my office by now… “ It shouldn’t be too difficult to manipulate the bifrost into pulling themself towards themself, unmarked version aside. Easier than pulling themself through time, at least. “Right- Right, this could actually work.” 

Without further ado, Lyf tears a pathway into the fabric of space, wrinkling their nose at the sweet stench of rot and the trill of bells that follows, before stepping into the spiralling mass of squamous things out into past them’s office- Oh Fuck. This was. Not their office. 

“Well. Shit.” Lyf says to the two guns and two tasers pointed at their face. 

“What are you and how did you get into this room?” 

“Holy Hel, what was-”

“Who- What- Edda? Why is there _a rainbow you?_ ” 

That last one freezes the room, all eyes snapping back and forth between them and past them, whose brown eyes bore wide into Lyf’s silver. Past Lyf opens their mouth, shuts it, grappling for an explanation they don’t have, “I don’t… I saw you. Outside, earlier. When I walked in.” 

“Fuck- I can explain?” Lyf very much does NOT want to explain to this whole ass room- but they want to get shot by the trigger happy woman- Bengtsson?- and her wife- wait, had they been married? Lyf couldn’t- less. Getting shot was not fun, ten out of ten did not recommend. 

This doesn’t seem to reassure the Lead Inspector or any of the others, but Fagerberg barks, “Please do,” anyways, her gun not faltering its aim. Hm. It would have to do. 

“Basically, I’m you,” Lyf points to past them, who looks as if they might be in shock, oops, “but from the future.” Nailed it. A+ explanation there, Edda, definitely wasn’t suspicious at all, couldn’t have said it better if you weren’t being held at gunpoint! 

A lie, obviously, if the Lead Inspector’s tightening grip and narrowing eyes are anything to go by, and a man they vaguely remember as “Vagle” inching closer to the door. No thank you. Their plan’s already gone awry, they don’t want or need more complications; with a flick of the wrist, the door handle twists, the lock melting, melding into the wall, sealing everyone inside. 

Problem solved. 

“I…” Past Lyf has yet to process their existence, still gaping like an upturned fish, poor guy, and Vagle notices the handle, polychromatic and very much not a handle anymore, if his whisper, “Good Gods.” is anything to go by. 

Fagerberg quirks a brow, “The future?” 

“An incredibly shit one, yes.” Ha- An understatement if Lyf’s ever heard one. But more palpable than “you and literally everyone in Yggdrasil but me die horribly.” 

“What did you do to the door.”

**+**

The thing wearing Lyfrassir’s face turns to them, lips curling into a sardonic smile,

“I- Look. I really only wanted to talk to you. I wasn’t expecting…others. This was a mistake. We can work with it, though, but. Not if you all flee in panic.” 

Vagle bounces back to Lyfrassir’s side, taser held high.  
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?! You use- seidher to break into our meeting, claim you’re Edda from the future, and trap us!” 

Bengtsson nods, “And if you’re really Lyfrassir, why do you look like that?” Her chin flicks in the direction of the thing’s hair, it’s silver eyes- which Lyf can see are heavy with some unknowable weight. Something dark and empty and determined. Something tragic. 

If this thing was them… what did that mean? What had happened to them? Lyfrassir isn’t sure they want to know.

“It’s complicated,” The thing sighs- identical to Lyf’s- and their stomach twists. “and I’d rather not detail my tragic backstory right now, I really don’t have the time-“

Fagerberg’s finger twitches over her trigger. 

“- BUT, essentially, I was mind-fucked by an eldritch god and am now, also, an eldritch being.” 

Bengtsson shoots the thing that looks like Lyfrassir in the heart, and it collapses immediately, a puppet snipped of its strings, and tar-thick blood, glittering in the fluorescent light, begins to pool on the floor. 

Lyfrassir’s jaw drops. 

“Holy shit!” Vagle cries. 

“What?” Bengtsson says, “It obviously was some sort of squamous creature pretending to be Edda! It was probably waiting for the right moment to kill us!” 

“...It did lock us in the room… ” 

Vagle already has his phone pulled from his pocket, dialing help. 

Lead Inspector Fagerberg nods her approval, then turns to them, eagle eyes intense as ever. “Edda, you said you saw it earlier?” 

“Y-Yes, as I was coming inside, after the smuggler.” No need to mention they thought it was a hallucination- not the time nor place. Not with the thing’s body cooling on the floor. Fuck- _a stress hallucination?_ Who were they kidding- that isn’t even a thing! 

“I wonder what it’s intentions were. Nefarious, no doubt. Good call, Ama, taking it out while it was focused on Edda.” 

“Aw, thanks!” 

“Help is on the way, should be here in roughly a minute!” 

“Wonderful. Vagle, Edda- secure the room, gather our notes. We’ll reconvene about the crate once this is dealt with. Ama, assist me in inspecting the creature for weapons or ID.” 

Lyfrassir gave a shaky jerk of their head, not wasting any time shuffling notes into semi-neat piles, mind whirring, gut churning. There’s something deeply disturbing, uncomfortably visceral, in seeing a thing that looks like you bleed out. Like staring at your own corpse. 

Across from them, Bengtsson chirps, “Of course!” and skips closer to the Lead Inspector— 

The thing, the very much shot and bleeding and dead thing that looks like Lyfrassir, claimed to be Lyfrassir, groans, fingers twitching. 

Lead Inspector Fagergerg unloads her gun into its chest. It stops moving. The remaining inspectors plus weapons specialist freeze. Lead Inspector Fagerberg unclips her electromagnetic cuffs from her waist and snaps them onto the thing’s wrists. No one complains. 

“ … Vagle, let the penitentiary know we need a cell cleared, high-level.” 

“W-Will do, Chief.” 

Lyfrassir silently wonders if that’ll hold it, but doesn’t speak up. _An eldritch them from some horrid future…_

Gods, they pray it was a lie. 

They ignore the part of them that knows, somehow, it’s not.


	3. Step Three: Allies (?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of eldritch breakdowns & denial pining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot starts moving, f i n a l l y 
> 
> I worked the pacing & characterization in this chap. a lot, but still am like- eh- ‘bout it, so if anyone finds anything off about it, don’t hesitate to comment. Any & all feedback is hella appreciated.
> 
> Alternate chapter title is "Marius Von Raum is big dumb & gay" 
> 
> c/w (spoilers):
> 
> \- maybe more than canon-typical swearing. I’m a very swear-y person. 
> 
> \- character has mental breakdown.

Marius Von Raum would say he’s having a good time in prison! Okay- well, he isn’t having _the best_ time, but a good time indeed. At least it’s been these last few years with Inspector Lyf to bother, with completely platonic reasonings _shut up Ivy he’s not pining, besides Lyf’s mortal so it doesn’t matter anyway and also the train so fuck you-_

Marius won’t say it isn’t boring, though, sans the Inspector, since he, Ivy, and Raph spent 90% of their days lounging about their cell, waiting for The Interesting Stuff to happen- in Raphaella’s words. They sung, they joked, they spitballed new and amusing ways to trick Jonny into an octokitten pit, Marius has even listened to Ivy detail her favorite books word-for-word. Willingly! All things he would’ve done outside of prison, mind you, including the books (Marius is not anything if not polite), but there’s really only so many decades one could do those things with the same two people in the same tiny cell before the urge to rip ones hair out begins to overtake you, you know? 

Which is why Marius’ interest peaks when harried looking prison guards pop in and start messing with the empty cell across from them. They’d been the only three down here for- well, literally 60 years. And now they’re getting a cell neighbor? 

How fantastic! 

Marius can’t wait to psychoanalyze them- he’d gotten loads of practice since his stint as Dionysus’ therapist. 

Tilting his head back from where he’d been laying to look at Ivy and Raph, Marius gestures to the cell “What do you think they’re in for?” 

“Something atrocious, no doubt, to be set down here with us” Raphaella hums from her place on her cot, “I wonder if they’ll be willing to fill out a survey?” 

“Given that New Midgard ships it’s murderers and terrorists off to the prison planet, Hel, there’s a 87% chance they’re a high-ranking thief, dealer, and/or smuggler. 94% if you factor in why we are here.” Ivy adds, not looking up from her book. 

Marius snorts, “What do you need a survey for?” 

“Science.” 

“Ah, of course.” 

“Of course. Why else?” 

“... Do you think they sing? We could use an extra voice.” 

Raphaella grins, opening her mouth to respond, but she’s interrupted by a clump of guards, faces uneasy, shoulders stiff, marching in. Between them they hold what Marius thinks is their new neighbor, but with how tight the guards stand together he can’t tell for sure. They throw them onto the floor of the cell- which, rude- remove their cuffs and leave as quickly as they came. 

With no guards obscuring his view, Marius gets his first good look at them. 

And wow, he’s pretty sure that’s a corpse? Did- Did the guards straight up leave them with a corpse? He doesn’t know whether to laugh or not. Mostly he’s confused. What kind of intimidation tactic is this? Certainly different to what they usually try- being nothing, as the New Midgard Transport Police gave up corralling them ages ago. 

It’s an interesting corpse, though, from what he can see. Rainbow hair shifting like water, reflecting light as if each individual strand is a thin, wiry prism, a black ooze seeping onto the floor from their chest- blood? No one bothered changing it out of the ratty jumpsuit it’s wearing, either, which was vaguely familiar but not familiar enough as so he could place its origin. 

“Well. This is unexpected.” Ivy states, book closed. Marius agrees. So does Raph, if the raise of her brows is any indication. “I only calculated a .0000023% chance of a dead body.” 

“So… no singing then?” 

“Sadly, it seems no-“ 

It’s then that the corpse moves, curling into themself with a grumbling whine. 

Raphaella’s eyes light up like they do when she conducts a particularly fascinating experiment. “Oh!” 

Marius, himself, sits up, as the corpse-that’s-apparently-not-actually-a-corpse-that’s-cool does the same, head lolling as if they aren’t fully alive yet, their grumbling upgraded from empty syllables to words- specifically, swears. 

“Ow ow ow- shit- fuck- I can’t believe she shot me- fuck, yes I can, I was suspicious as fuck- but still- ow, godsdamn bullets- fuck me I guess-“ Their rambling breaks off into a hiss as they shove the hair from their face, straighten their neck with a crack, and Marius sees- 

Oh. 

Huh. 

Of all the things he’d been expecting, it wasn't Inspector Lyf’s face staring back at him, eyes wide with dawning horror. 

There’s a brief moment of silence, as both parties take each other in, the dull cell lighting doing nothing to dim the shine of Lyf’s hair or Raph’s stare. 

Marius feels like he should maybe be concerned about the latter, but eh, not his problem.

No, his problem is the way Lyf’s (is it Lyf? Lyf’s gayer twin? Wait- is Lyf gay? Not the time Marius-) horror turns to anger- anger that seems to be directed at them. And yeah, okay, Marius has pissed off many a folk in his time, but it’s a little unsettling seeing the “I’m going to fucking kill you” glare on Inspector Lyf, a cold rage simmering under their iris’ and not the annoyed aggravation Marius usually inspires. 

“Uh-“ 

“Oh Fuck No.” 

“Fascinating~”

“... Hm. This is more unexpected than I first thought. How intriguing.” 

“Um- Fancy seeing you here, Inspector-”

“No. Shut up, Von Raum. This is the godsdamn nightmare scenario.”

Baffled, Marius glances back to Raphaella and Ivy. Neither return it. Neither look as confused as Marius feels, either. 

Raphaella literally vibrates with questions and cogs turn behind Ivy’s eyes as she puzzles out how this is possible. 

_How is this possible???_

The Inspector devolves back into muttered curses, burying their head in their hands and subsequently smearing their oily blood(???) everywhere, which leads to more swearing. 

_What a fun cycle that is._

Tension- awkward, curious, uncomfortable- permeated the prison block, so thick it could be cut with kiddy scissors. 

Ivy is the one to break it, much to Marius chagrin. “... May I inquire as to why you’re here, Inspector?”

A beat. 

“Former Inspector.” Lyf’s voice is clipped, carefully controlled, as if they’re a loaded gun they haven’t yet decided to fire. It’s a tad bit worrisome, if Marius is being truthful. In all his time here, he’s never heard Lyf sound like that. He’s never seen Lyf look like that. 

_Something’s wrong here._

“Excuse me?” 

“Former. I haven’t been an inspector in years.” 

“When you visited one month, three weeks, two days, and four hours ago, you were an Inspector Second Class of the New Midgard Transport Police.” 

Which is true! Marius remembers Lyf visitation, and they were most definitely still on the force- despite Marius attempts to persuade them to quit- so what could’ve happened between then and now? 

_What’s changed?_

Lyf smiles. It’s a cruel smile and validates Marius’s ‘wrong, wrong, wrong’ alarm ringing raucous in his skull. Something’s wrong here. _Something is wrong._ With this situation, with this conversation, _with this Lyf._

“Not me- well, me, but I’m not that Lyf.” 

“What do you mean?” Raph tilts her head, fingers clenching, wishing for a notebook. 

Lyf’s voice could, suddenly, freeze magma, vitriol lacing the words like poison, and Marius has to stop himself from recoiling. “... You three knew- know. You _know_ what’s coming.”

**+**

Lyf’s so angry they think they’ll burst. Like a red giant, collapsing in on itself and exploding in a fury burst of rage and stardust.

They thought they were ready to face them. Not immediately, no, but they did need their help. They thought they could get past it, take time to wrangle their personal feelings because Yog-Sothoth doesn’t care about drivel like Lyf’s feelings of betrayal- _they could have warned them, they knew, they knew they knew **they knew-**_ They were wrong. 

Gods this really is the cherry on top of their bullshit day sundae, isn’t it? Warp into the wrong room, get shot, revive, get shot again, only to revive in a cell. A cell across from the bandits. A cell across from Von Raum. 

They could get out, of course. It’d be ridiculously easy. This is but a minor set-back in their admittedly heedless plan- But. 

But. 

They can’t. 

Not yet. 

And. 

They’re so angry. 

So, so fucking angry. 

Angrier than they thought they could be at anyone, bar Odin. 

Seeing them again sparked a fire Lyf thought quenched. Rainbow dances in the corners of their eyes as they bite out words, force themselves to keep compressed. 

They’re so angry it hurts.

_Gods, they missed them._

Neither La Cognizi or Von Raum look as if they know how to respond, but comprehension dawns on Alexandria. Lyf knows she knows. Alexandria knows Lyf knows she knows. 

But she says nothing, just watches them with sick curiosity that only succeeds in fueling their fire. Sparking their self-destruction. 

They snarl and the world around them sinks fleshy polychromatous, startling the others. 

And Lyf begins to unravel, decades of pent up powerless-fury-fear-betrayal spooling out and out and **out.**

“You know about the train. The Bifrost. Yog-Sothoth. You fucking knew.” The walls are singing flute-song, starlight wailing in their ears, blood sizzling and crackling, pop-pop-pop! Their skin cracks with it, madness chasm spilling free of its skin suit prison. _Lyf is so, so angry._ “You knew and you did nothing. Just stood and watched as they were swallowed. Is it funny to you? Their deaths? Is this, this- prison, New Midgard- is this a game? Mindless entertainment as you waited, thinking about those poor, doomed Yggdrasil fools, laughing as you escaped to do fuck all. Fuck you- Just, Fuck You! Fuck you all and your gods-awful singing and playing and- You could’ve warned me! Why didn’t- Why didn’t you- fuck- you could’ve- **You Knew This Would Happen.** ” 

In the background there are panicked swears, but Lyfrassir cannot hear-see-feel past the roar of the Bifrost in their veins-skin-soul and they want to scream until their skin sloughs off slime sick with sin. Rainbow is everything now, they can taste the white noise buzzing beneath their tongue, brilliant-burning-broken, the void sings to them, calling, crying, crooning in honey wet words that worm into Lyf, promising them the cosmos, _let go come back let go let go let go my child-_

__

They clamp down, compress, and with hard-won will keep from shattering. 

Yog-Sothoth can suck it. Lyf has come this far, hasn’t suffered to crack completely. 

Not yet. 

And all at once, the chaos stills. The cell block glitters silent, colorful and wonderful and fatal. 

“Hey, what the fuck?” 

Von Raum. Voice a few octaves higher than his normal register. 

“How did you do that?” 

La Cognizi. Voice rife with honest inquiry. Not at all frightened by Lyf’s squamous burst. 

“... You’re a time traveller.” 

Alexandria. Voice matter-of-fact with an undertone of something Lyf can’t place, finally saying it. 

Lyf has nothing left to say. They just breath in and out and focus on keeping their shit together. They’re drained. Their power thrums inside them, and yet they are empty, cored out, anger gone just as quick as it came. A solar flare of fury. 

Damn, they pray the guards didn’t notice their mini eldritch breakdown on the cameras… assuming the cameras still work. Fuuuck. Their luck really had run out, hadn’t it? They aren’t surprised. It’d been due to dry up ages ago. Since before the Ratatosk, if they’re being honest. 

“They’re a what?!” 

“A time traveler, Marius, keep up.” 

“No- I got that part, just- What The Fuck??”

“What is confusing about that? We time travel constantly.” 

“But we’re- That’s different! This planet doesn’t even have that kind of technology?”

Alexandria straight up pats Von Raum on the head like he’s a child. Lyf approves. “Obviously the former inspector is no longer a simple midgardian. Due to recent circumstances, I can safely say there’s a 98.7% chance they’ve been touched by The Bifrost.” 

Lyf chuckles, humorless, “What gave it away?”

“The warped, rainbow quality of our prison block, for one.” 

“... That was rhetorical, Alexandria.” 

“Hm.” 

Von Raum stands up and begins to pace, hands waving wildly around him. For some, gods forsaken reason, Lyf is suddenly reminded of a flailing wind sock and has to choke down a sudden bout of hysterical laughter. “Okay- sure. Inspector Lyf is a time travelling eldritch thing now! Cool! Great! Wonderful!” 

“It really is,” La Cognizi grins, “Would you mind filling out a survey, Inspector?” 

“... I nearly lost control on you all, you learn I’m a time traveller AND marked by an eldritch god, and all you want me to do is fill out a survey?” They were… they were way too casual about this. But this was definitely an improvement from the last time people learned about Lyf, so they suppose it’s a win? Even if they still want to strangle Von Raum with his own violin strings. It’s fine. 

“Yup!” La Cognizi chirps, mechanical wings fluffing in excitement. 

“... We do know, though, Inspector Edda. About what’s going to occur.” Alexandria tips her head along with the mood, “Although we have no means of stopping it.” 

Lyfrassir sighs and brushes multi-hues flecks from their rainbow-stained skin- they don’t even bother with their blood, that shit’s _long_ since settled- some of the flake-stains refuse to budge, but they know they’ll fade within the hour. They did their last breakdown; their shuttle hadn’t fared as well as their cell had, but then again, they didn’t have as tight a grip on their abilities back then. “Again, it’s Former Inspector… You could have at least _warned me._ You fixed the black box, you _must_ have known what I’d find.” 

“We… When you are as old as we are, Former Inspector, objects such as mortal life lose some of their value, cruel as that sounds. Besides, given how your present self acts- you do have one of those, yes? You didn’t replace our Inspector?- there’s only a 36% chance you would have believed us, let alone act upon a warning.” 

“It still would’ve been the right fucking thing to do- oh wait. You’re all criminals, sorry, I forgot.” Bitterness creeps back into their words, hollow, and Lyf ignores that they, too, are basically a criminal now. They did murder someone. That is indeed a thing they did. Amongst threatening their past self & former co-workers, and all that theft they did before traveling back… Again, it’s fine, super duper fucking dandy. 

No one says anything to that. What can they? It’s not like Lyf is wrong. Insensitive? Yes. But only as insensitive as the others; ‘objects such as mortal life lose some of their value’ Alexandria said.

_Gods._

That’s their star system she’s talking about. Millions upon millions of lives, lost in an instant. 

Part of Lyf knows they can’t fault her for it. Things do lose their value over time, like how Lyf’s lost any fucks they could’ve given. But they refuse, they fucking **refuse** to lose sight of how valuable life is, mortal or not. They’d sooner carve out their own heart and devour it whole.

**+**

Marius is pretty sure he’s lost his mind. Losing his mind? He feels lost. Like his world view’s been uprooted, flipped upside down, because _shit he knew they’d have to leave Lyf behind, but he never really thought about what that would really mean._

And then Rainbow Lyf snapped. 

They’d been talking (more like Lyf had been talking and Marius’ short-circuiting) and then… boom. An ignited fuse. An ignited, terrifying, rainbow fuse. His head aches and pounds just thinking of it. 

Processing the past few minutes isn’t happening. It just isn’t. Emotions whirlwind inside him and resist settling, which is always fun; he can’t pin if he’s upset, incredulous, or- 

Instead, Marius remembers the day he first met Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda. 

It had been the type of day where The Mechs (prison edition) sang until their throats ran hoarse and their fingers burned. Where the guard avoided their block- tasteless hacks. 

Marius had been wrapping up a run-through of “Cinders’ Song” when the door at the end of the block swung open and in strode Inspector Lyf, jaw clenched, brow set. 

Marius’ immediate thought: oh no this one's hot. 

“Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda.” They nodded, “I have some questions-“ 

His second thought was: oh no this one’s hot AND professional. 

Which, curse his traitorous brain, was a bit of a turn on. 

Shit. 

No reason to neglect a warm welcome, though! 

“Hello there, Inspector! Baron Marius Von Raum, at your service~” Sweeping down in a theatrical bow, Marius’ smile was wide, “What brings you to our humble abode?” 

Their eye twitched, “Questions. I was told-“ 

“Questions!” 

“Yes, it’s detrimental that-“ 

“What about?” Raph asked.

“A smuggling ring. Small, bu-“

“Well, Inspector Lyf-“ “Edda.” “- You came to the right place!” 

“Did I?” 

“Of course! We’ve been running through a few of our songs, but have been woefully bereft of an audience-“ 

“Wait-“

As if following some unspoken cue, the group burst immediately into song. 

The Inspector gaped, hackles raised. 

His third though had been: Oh, I want to keep this one around~ 

Marius was proud to say they’d managed to get through most of “Drunk Space Pirate” before Lyf broke out of shock, confiscated all their instruments, and turned heel, leaving Marius’ heart thudding against his chest- but in a completely platonic way, Ivy, 100% platonic- and beginning what would blossom into a beautiful partnership~ 

Inspector Lyf’s visits were, are, the highlight of Marius’ days, these days. 

Yet, Marius had been prepared to up and leave at the first sign of any black box, train, or bifrost. No thoughts spared to the fate of the Inspector, no thoughts on what leaving them truly means. 

He’s left people behind before- _they’re only mortals, in no life could they stay forever, not like him and the crew-_ to no consequence on his conscience. 

So why does he hurt now?

Why does the mere concept of Lyf’s fate- different, it seems, but yet no worse than the millions of others here- wedge sawdust in his throat, clamp his heart in metal jaws, loop his thoughts over and over and over? 

Why does it hurt? 

The others are talking still to Lyf, unfazed by the warped reality that now surrounds them, because of course they aren’t, but Marius has stopped pacing to drown in his heart’s own racing. 

He could still save them. It wasn’t too late. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to kidnap the current Lyf, especially if he has Rainbow Lyf’s help, they must’ve come back for a reason, so probably that? 

“Marius?” Oh- Raph. “You’ve been awfully quiet.” 

He opens his mouth to crack a joke- humor solves most things, he’s learned- but what spills out is, “I’m sorry.” 

“Huh?” 

Oh shit. Okay. Yeah. Apologizing. He’s- He turns to face Rainbow Lyf- still Lyf, a Lyf he left behind- whose previous anger’s been washed away by surprise. 

Ouch. He feels he should be less surprised- less hurt- by that. 

“I’m sorry. That we didn’t- That we did nothing.” That we didn’t warn you, help you, save you. For doing what we always do- Ivy’s right but it doesn’t make the hurt stop. 

“Oh- uh- Thank you.” Marius is pretty sure that’s the first time Lyf’s thanked him literally ever. Wow. Even though it’s rainbow-future Lyf, he’s cataloging this day for the rest of eternity. (It soothes the hurt, too) 

“Uh. Yeah.” 

Raphaella stifles a laugh behind her palm and Ivy rolls her eyes, but screw them- Marius at least broke some of the tension (for now), and he wasn’t really paying attention, but he thinks Ivy just made things worse. (Future him made things worse. He’s not thinking about that, though. He can save them) 

From across the hall, Lyf sighs again- and wow, the Inspector sighed a lot. Marius wants to fix that… platonically. “I… That’s why I’m here, actually. To. Do something. What, I haven’t quite figured out, but…” they look pained, staring off to the side, “I’m going to need help.” 

Now it’s their turn to be surprised. 

Marius jumps on the words. “Our help?” 

Any points of favor Marius just won apologizing seem to be gone to the ether, if the look Lyf shoots at them is any indication. Dammit. 

“No, Von Raum, the Cops, you know, the ones who _shot me and then threw me in prison._ ” 

“... Point taken. What- What can we do?” 

“Jonny’ll be upset if we mess with the story.” Raph muses. 

“Fuck Jonny.” If the First Mate has a problem with their change in plans, he can shoot himself out the airlock. From what Marius’ heard, he’s good at that. Right now, Inspector Lyf needs his- their help. Besides, whatever they're getting themselves into could make a fine story in and of itself! 

(Not that Marius’ cares about that. No, he has more pressing concerns now) 

“Fair enough.” 

“... Who’s Jonny- Wait, no, I don’t want to fucking know.” Lyf grimaces. 

Ivy solemnly nods her head, “No, probably not.” 

Wait a second- 

“Wait- uh- shot? You were shot. Shouldn’t you be- no, you were dead, what the fuck.” 

“Oh. Yeah- about that. I’m an eldritch abomination?” They shrug, as if that’s a suitable answer. Marius supposes it is. 

He’ll unpack the ‘possibly immortal’ part and all those implications later. 

“Right. Of course. Time-traveling eldritch abomination. Yes. Who needs our help with…?” 

“Stopping the future? Yog-Sothoth? The cosmically horrible demise of every living being in my star-system? Have you been paying any attention at all, Von Raum?” Lyf’s voice is exasperated, but he thinks he may hear (hopefully) a hint of fondness? Is that fondness? Not that he cares, but, is it? 

“To be fair, you never outright said most of that.” 

“Why the Hel _else_ would I be here?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Exactly!” 

“While this is adorable to watch,” Both Marius & Lyf splutter, and to his horror he can feel his cheeks warm- this isn’t even his Lyf (but it IS Lyf, his brain reminds)-  
“these cells aren’t the most… optimal place to hash out plans.” Raphaella cut in. 

“You’ll help?” A smile, genuine, relieved, brighter than Marius has seen this Lyf look since they’d arrived, spreads across their face. 

“We will.” Ivy returns a small smile, just a quirk of her lip. “But we should leave as Raphaella says. The guards check the camera feed every twenty minutes. We have approximately 3 minutes before they notice the Former Inspector’s interior redesigns.” 

_God_ , Marius loves his friends. If he’d been arrested with anyone else- bar MJE Brian- no doubt it’d go wildly in another direction. With more bloodshed and arson, probably. 

“Leave that to me.” And before any of them can protest- and by them, Marius most definitely means himself, because Lyf looks worn from their breakdown and dying, which, understandable- Lyf rips what can only be described as a hole in reality and disappears into it. Not a minute later, a similar hole opens up outside The Mechs cell and out they come, electronic key card twirling between shaky fingers. 

“I would warp us there, but.” They give a wry grin. “I don’t think you’d all survive, as I am now.” 

Fair enough, Marius thinks. 

If they wanted, though, they probably could survive (Brian survived his foray in a literal sun for a few centuries- until Jonny remembered to pick him up- and he was fine! Mostly!), but not pleasantly, and he doesn’t want to test the bounds of their immortality. 

He didn’t want to be indisposed, not right now, not when he could feel his emotions finally begin to settle around a game plan- 

“Besides,” Lyf adds, “You escaped easily enough in my time, so.” 

The cell door swings open just as the lights blare red, signaling an emergency lock-down. The guards must’ve finally noticed. 

Thankfully, that’s not their problem. Not when you’re immortal and are surrounded by your brain-cell-holding crew members! 

“Let’s go!” He cheers with joy he doesn’t quit feel, grabbing his violin and striding outside his cell for the first time in sixty years. Raphaella and Ivy follow suit, holding their instruments and book respectively.

Up close, he can see dark bags lining Lyfs lids, the faint shine of their dried blood, the weary hope driving them. They look exhausted. 

_Marius vows that’ll change._

Lyf waves, “I’ve got a place we can go to. But we’ll need to avoid being seen.” 

“Not a struggle, I assure you.” 

And Ivy takes the lead and the four of them leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited it all (sans chap. 1) to be present tense, by now, so that's what we're vibing w/ 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed, next chapter should be out in either a few days or a week, we'll see how much writing I can squeeze into my busy next few days.


	4. Step Four: ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people talk and the story starts to shape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue in this one folks 
> 
> c/w: (spoilers) 
> 
> \- dissociation 
> 
> \- swearing

There’s a stain on the floor now. 

An oozing stain that gleams and gleams as Lyfrassir watches and watches it seep through the tile like rot. Only minutes have passed since help arrived, freeing them from their meeting-room prison and under Fagerberg’s orders, left with the corpse of the thing that looked like them but they prayed wasn’t. In that time, they have not moved. They have not thought. They have not breathed save a sigh of pure relief when the door broke into a million metal shards under the hot point of a laser; their relief had swept through them so thoroughly they couldn’t truly be upset by how the door reacted to the laser; it was not supposed to shatter like fine china. 

Lyfrassir feels a bit too much like the door for their liking- it’s fine. 

“Edda, a word?” Fagerberg isn’t looking at them. None of the others are looking at them, all eyeballing the room, eyeballing anything that isn’t them- the remains of the door, the ceiling, the walls; they’re okay with this, even if none of them are looking at them or the stain that’s yet to stop its crawl- Lyfrassir doesn’t care to know how. 

“I- Yes. Yes, a word.” Their mouth parrots back but their mind has not left the stain, the thing, it’s story. How they know, somehow, someway, that putting it away with Von Raum, Alexandria, and La Cognizi is moot. How they know it’ll escape; there is a still spreading stain on the floor and a now shattered door and they highly doubt reinforced steel of a prison cell will trap it like it trapped them. Whatever that thing was, future them or no, it was no midgardian. It was more. 

Following Fagerberg to the corner of the room as Vagle and Bengtsson chat with those who didn’t march off, Lysfassir feels unplugged, disconnected from reality in a way that feels remarkably similar to being submerged underwater, if the water was instead tar and it sings and chants but they do not understand, cannot comprehend, and they choke on it, but their face is stony neutral, their shoulders set square, and suddenly they crave another cup of coffee. 

“-Edda?” 

“Hm?” Fagerberg’s lips are moving, pressing into a fine line, but when had they… the floor spins beneath their feet, Lyfrassir does not react, but they lower their gaze back down to the stain where it had never slowed its journey, if it can just reach their feet, lick the tips of their boots, they’ll- 

“-snap out of it, Edda-“ 

A hum starts at the back of their throat and they lift one leg to meet the stain, they have to meet it, need to feel it- 

“-the fuck is wrong with them?!”

Like a weight, hands smack into their shoulders, jostling them, and it is only a little stumble, but it’s enough, and Lyfrassir blinks, pupils blown wide, at Fagerberg- Lead Inspector, their boss, why was she- she needed to talk to them, so why- whose expression is etched with concern. They blink again, try to blink away the fog, the fuzzy whistle in their ears, and look down—

and scramble back, back, back until their back slams into the wall and Vagle is there, hands up in a placating gesture, worry lines carving up the space between his brows, and Fagerberg follows their gaze to the floor, sees the stain, closer now, somehow, and mind now clear, Lyfrassir bends over and spills their guts onto their coworkers shoes- fuck, they can’t believe- sorry Vagle- straightens their spine, and makes to flee. 

They don’t make half a step before Vagle’s fingers clasp gentle over their forearm, shuttering them to a stop, but Lyfrassir needs to get out of here now. They manage, through gummy teeth, a choked, “I need to go, Vagle. Let me go.” 

“Holy Hel, Edda, what was that?” 

“Let. Me. Go.” Their throat burns from the acid, “Please.”

“You can’t just- Obviously, something is not right, I can’t just let you leave!”

“Please, Vagle.” They’re practically begging now, as a visceral string tries to tug them far, far away from here. 

“You’re sick! You’re in shock! I don’t doubt what happened today was disconcerting- it was wearing your face, pretending to be you and that’s- Gods, that’s creepy as Hel, but you can’t- you can’t just leave!” 

“No, Vagle, let Edda go. I will escort them to medical. Clearly they are not well.” Hands, the same hands, heavy, are back on their shoulders and Lyfrassir may have returned to clarity, but they don’t protest as Fagerberg leads them out- thank the gods- whispering to Bengtsson, nodding to Vagle, and maneuvering them down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and straight into her office. All they can think to say is, “This isn’t medical, Lead Inspector.” 

“It is not.” She responds, guiding them into the chair before her desk before sitting across from them, fingers lacing together, “I did not lie, I will take you to medical if you feel you need it, but first, we must finish our talk.” 

“I- Something, Something happened to me. In there. After.” 

“Do you know what, Inspector?” 

“I’m… not certain.”

“What can you remember?” 

“They took the… body. You pulled me aside. The stain on the floor, then… I… I think you tried to snap me out of it, but- I had to leave.” 

“Do you know why?” 

“I just had to- I had to escape… Do you think that thing did something to me?” 

“It is possible. Whatever it’s plans were or are, it seemed to focus on you as a center point. Whether it personally did something to you, or more likely, close proximity to it, plus shock, affected you in this way, is yet to be seen. If it managed to survive my gun, we will endeavor to seek the truth, Inspector Edda. Do not worry.” 

“... Thank you.” 

“Now. I wanted to speak to you about the creature. You said you saw it earlier this morn’?” 

“I- Yes, I did.” 

Fagerberg leans forward, “Tell me everything, leave no detail to rot.” 

“It was after the smuggler at checkpoint-“ Lyf resists curling in on themself, it would do no good here, even if all they want is to rest and forget today ever happened, forget what they’ve seen and heard and know, “As I said in the group chat, I stopped for coffee, and was almost to the precinct when I thought I saw- something flash in the crowds. All I’d caught was a glimpse of rainbow-“ burning rainbow, seering their peripheral, more brilliant than a comet, “- but it filled me with all-consuming dread. As if I had had hot coals forcefully shoved down my throat, boiling my stomach,” don’t bite your lip, you’re professional, you’re before your superior, you’re stronger than that, even if you can feel it still, ignore it, ignore it and explain, “I- I convinced myself it was nothing, for nothing was there when I turned fully- Convinced myself I was being paranoid, that it was the stress, and hurried inside… Obviously, that wasn’t the case… “ 

“It was not.” She nods, expression unreadable, and leans back with a sigh, “Thank you, Inspector Edda. You are dismissed. In light of today’s events, I think it best you take the rest of the day off-“ 

If Lyfrassir felt any shade of alright, they would protest. What about the case? Didn’t they still need to talk about the crate, what was found in it, the smuggler? But Lyf’s still reeling. They want to sleep. Ha, that’s a first- them taking off to go sleep? Hilarious. 

“-and I implore you to stop by medical on your way out. I can not force you, but.” But Lyf zoned out then puked on Vagle’s shoes. Yeah. They were there. 

Muttering an almost inaudible “Of course Lead Inspector Fagerberg- thank you, I will.” Lyfrassir slides from the stiff office chair and out the door, not looking back. 

They don’t go to medical. Fagerberg should’ve escorted them like she’d said. Out the door, they take a sharp right down the stairs and out of the precinct and hop on the first bus they find. They don’t go to medical, but they don’t go home either. Instead, Lyfrassir exits the bus three stops before their usual and practically sprints straight back into their favorite coffee shop. A little hole-in-the-wall type place, very artistic. Strange to think they’d been here not hours before and they’re biggest concern was the prospect of paperwork and a migraine. The migraine had developed, but so had so many other things they did NOT want to deal with right now. What they wanted was another coffee, extra espresso shots. 

The barista side-eyed them when they placed their order, evidently remembering them from this morning, but Lyfrassir didn’t care. Judge-y teenagers paled compared to future, eldritch versions of themself, if it’s true. 

~~It is.~~

Without their usual grace, Lyfrassir woodenly went from the shop, coffee in hand, and wandered. Just, wandered. They did not speak, or weep, or any of that that was not stiff silence, and they did not examine their surroundings or the crowds or the hustle of life. Sunshine hid above towering skyscrapers and much like them, did not touch the world. Too far above, but not too far as to be disconnected as they had been in the room with the stain that was now there, and chilled aside from the coffee they robotically chugged as they went. From their pocket their phone dinged- Vagle, no doubt- but they left it alone. They couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t alone. At some point, when the sun had all but evaporated into dawn and the city had thinned as people went home and their coffee had long since run dry, their phone began to ring; loudly at their side it screamed; they should really change their ringtone, it’s quite obnoxious. 

Lyfrassir muted it and the sky muted the sun and at last, they went home, crashing instantly on their couch, eager to put the whole dreadful, bullshit day behind them.

**+**

“They WHAT?!”

They shouldn’t have muted their phone. They shouldn’t have muted their phone! Fuck! 

Vagle’s tinny voice buzzed in their ear, “I tried to tell you yesterday!” 

“I was in shock yesterday!” 

“I know, I know- and I forgive you for the boots and like, trying to run out on us, it was a stressful time- but you couldn’t have at least checked your phone?!” 

“Forgive me for wanting to take some time to process- That!” 

“Did you even go to medical like Chief said??” 

“...” 

“Edda, _my gods-_ Look, okay, I get it, yesterday was a clusterfuck, pardon my language, and we all were acting out of it, and I understand why you’d want to go home to rest, but this is kind of a big deal! Like, a ginormous deal!” 

“Exactly why I should’ve been informed sooner!” 

“I _tried._ ” 

Lyfrassir sighs, pinching the bridge of their nose, and acquiesces, “Fine. Fine. Fair enough. What do we know? What can we do?” 

“Nothing?” 

“ _What._ ” 

“It’s- Look, Edda, we don’t even know how they got out! No one even noticed that you-creature-“ “Don’t call it that.” “-rainbow-ified the place until the system-check, and despite the penitentiary authorizing an emergency shutdown, no one can find hide nor hair of any prisoner assigned to high-level. It’s insane.” A groan, “And expect more interrogation, because every officer in the buildings knows we were the last group involved with this.” 

“Wonderful.” 

“Yup. Okay, I’m going to have to go, but try to be here in the hour, Chief wants us all together, talked to Head and now she has some announcements.”

Fucking fantastic, just what Lyfrassir needed, more announcements, more bullshit-fuckery to add to the list of gods-forsaken shit they have to process, deal with, more shit to be swept under the rug of ‘I guess this is my fucking life now, huzzah, praise be to the gods’. 

What they want to reply is: “Actually no, I’m staying home, fuck this and fuck you.” 

What they say is: “Sounds great. Will do.” 

And Lyfrassir chucks their phone into the wall.

**+**

“Never before have I so vehemently craved the sweet release of death.”

“Oh worm?” 

“What does that _even mean?_ ” 

After their escape, Lyf reluctantly lead the group to their new base of operations. AKA the stolen flat. They already regretted it, which was too bad, because they really do need the help. Maybe they’d feel as hopeful as they originally did if the help was any sort of useful. 

“I’m JUST saying you should consider all your options!” 

“Me manifesting tentacles- _which I’m fairly certain is not a thing I can do, thank the gods-_ to battle Yog-Sothoth to the death is not an option, Von Raum!” 

“It could be! You wouldn’t believe the weird shit I’ve seen!” 

“He’s not wrong.” La Cognizi grins, stretching her wings to dominate the entirety of Lyf’s bed, leaving the rest of them to sit or stand on the shaggy carpet floor or, in Marius’ case, lay sprawled like a child; how fitting. 

“Well- Well it’s not! And that’s final! If anyone brings up tentacles again I’m going to fucking kill someone, Holy Hel!” 

La Cognizi giggles, “Good luck with that.” 

“Again, _what does that even mean?!_ You all can’t keep saying cryptic bullshit and leave it at that! I know I’ve already explained, but for the sake of my last remaining brain cell, let me remind you that I came back with a deadline. I’ve told you the basics- eldritch abomination, less than 2 months, cosmic-rainbow hellscape for all- you could _at least_ return the favor.” 

Von Raum opens his mouth, but- “No- Don’t you dare- I know there’s something. You all escaped through twenty inches of solid steel, avoided every single prison guard in my time- AND YESTERDAY! Alexandria literally led us out of there under an emergency lock down! You’ve been in that prison sixty years and not aged a day! And despite my best efforts, a never ending stream of violins haunted my every waking hour!!” 

“Haunted? Past tense?” Of-fucking-course that’s what Von Raum focuses on. A wide, shit-eating grin unfurls on his lips as his hand reaches into his bag and Lyf doesn’t blink before a tear in reality swallows it whole. Goodbye violin, you won’t be missed. 

“Hey!” 

“You were saying?” 

“Bring it back, I had important stuff in there!” 

Lyf shrugs unapologetically, “Sorry. Disappearances into the void only.” 

Von Raum splutters, face flushing in what they assume to be embarrassment. 

“I’m done.” Alexandria calls from where she’d been writing on the wall, that black ink was never coming out, but oh well. She’d been combining everything of importance Lyf could remember about these next few months and about the black box, adding in her own knowledge as she went, and now the plain wall was covered head-to-toe in an elaborate web of the beginnings of a game plan. 

“Brilliant!” La Cognizi cheers, suddenly by the red heads side. Damn, she moved fast. “Now we have grounds for a hypothesis.” 

“I would like to add, before we begin our discussion, that we would have a 87% increased success rate if we recruit the others.” 

“No. Fuck Jonny.” Von Raum pouts, “If he wanted to help, he could’ve got arrested himself.” 

Wait. _What._

“ _Could’ve got arrested?_ You got arrested _on **purpose**?!_ ” 

Alexandria tilts her head, “Obviously.” 

Groaning, Lyf examines the wall instead of punching it, like they would love. 

“I agree with Marius-“ “Thank you, Raph! At least somebody here is on my side!” “-it’ll be much more interesting to see what they do when they discover we’ve abandoned the story.” 

“Shoot us, 96%.” 

“Fuck. Jonny.” Von Raum reiterates, and the other two apparently agree if their respective smile and thumbs up mean anything, and again, Lyf _does not want to know._

“Now that that is out of the way- Inspector? Our next move?” 

Alexandria said they needed more allies. Failure wasn’t affordable, and anything that increases their chance of winning… 

Lyf knows what they need to do. 

“... Well…”

**+**

Lyfrassir blankly stares, as if they do it long enough, the past few minutes will be reversed and subsequently wiped from all existence, like now they sorely wish to be.

Nothing happens. Figures. 

“-Understand, we would not have placed you on this case if we did not feel you were up to the task.” 

They say nothing. 

The department head places her hand on their shoulder in a wasted attempt at comfort; it doesn’t work. “Inspector Fagerberg and her team will miss working with you, you were invaluable to the case, but you’re our best bet at catching the escaped convicts. I know the past day has been… rough. But! You’re tough, Inspector Edda! I have faith in you!” 

Still, nothing. 

“You know these criminals better than any of our officers, I have no doubt they’ll be back behind bars in the next week, haha!” Laughter doesn’t mask the awkward, exhausted tension in the room. Lyfrassir doesn’t want this. They don’t want to do this. But they stare and stare at their boss’s boss’ beaming face and stone-cold eyes and know they have no choice. 

Feeling as though their signing their own death warrant, they nod. 

“Fabulous!!!” 

After their phone call, they’d expected the worst. When they arrived at the precinct, they’d expected the worst. When Fagerberg pulled them aside- yet again, which from their experience only bode negative results- and said the head wanted to announce to them personally, well, Lyfrassir expected the worst. 

They hadn’t expected the worst to get _fucking worse._

Godsdammit!

**+**

“So we’re going to…”

“Yes.” 

“I mean, are you, uh, sure?” 

“Yes, Von Raum, what the Hel else are we supposed to do? Fuck around until the day is saved?

“That is what we usually do, yes.” 

“No one asked.” 

"And the day is not usually saved." 

“Okay- But-“ 

“Shut up. It’ll be fine. Probably.” 

“When?” 

“Fuck- tonight?” 

“Works for me!” 

“This has a… decent chance of not going horribly, so I suppose it’ll do.” 

“Sigh. At least this’ll be fun!” 

“... Did you just _say sigh??_ ”

"... No?" 

**+**

Somewhere in the Yggdrasil system sits a ship. A ship with a crew. A crew that’s day is about to get, let’s say, infinitely more amusing.

**+**

“Jonny, we uh- we have a problem.”

“What is it?” 

“Aurora has discovered a signal, and it does not-“ 

“Nastya, for the last time I don’t want to hear about date night, Jesus fucking Christ-“ 

“No, no, Look.” 

“...” 

“Jonny?”

“... Those _fucking idiots-_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> No set update schedule, but expect something soon-ish, yeehaw.


End file.
